I was at first rather startled at perceiving
a tall, half-naked Cingalese away in the
distance, with a gun at least half as long again
as himself, long black hair over his shoulders,
and bunches of something hanging at his
girdle. He was watching some game amongst
the trees; at last he fired, ran, picked up
something, and stuck it in his girdle. What
could it be? Parrot, pigeon, or jungle-fowl?
It was only a poor little squirrel; and there
were at least two scores of these pretty
creatures hanging at the waist of the mighty
hunter! Fortunately I could speak the native
language, and was not long in learning the
cause of this slaughter. It appeared that in
addition to their pretty bushy tails, glossy
coats, and playful gambols, the squirrels have
very sharp and active teeth, and an uncommon
relish for the sweet tender buds of the
cocoa-nut flower, which they nip off and destroy
by scores, and of course lessen by so much
the future crop of fruit. Handsful of the
buds, lay half-eaten around each tree, and I
no longer felt astonished at this species of
sporting.

The ground had evidently been well
cleared from jungle plants, not one of which
was to be seen in all this tract: a stout and
healthy-looking grass was springing up along
the avenues; whilst, at certain intervals,
patches of Indian corn, sweet potatoes, guinea-
grass, and other products—intended for
cattle-fodder during dry weather when the wild
grasses fail—gave tints of varied luxuriance
to the scene.

The ground at this part of the estate sloped
a little, and I came to an open space,
somewhat marshy in appearance. A number of
cattle, young and old, were browsing about on
the long grass, or sipping a draught from the
clear stream which ran through the low
ground. They were confined within a rude
but stout fence, and on one side was a range
of low sheds for their shelter. The cattle
appeared in good condition; they were
purchased, when very young, from the drovers
who bring them in hundreds from the
Malabar Coast; and many were then fit for
the cart, the carriage, or the knife. At the
end was a manure shed, and outside stood a
keeper's hut, with a store attached, in which
were piled up dried guinea-grass, maize, &c.

The manure-pit was deep and large, and in
it lay the true secret of the magical
productiveness of the trees I had just seen. Good
seed planted in light free soil, well cleared
and drained, will produce a fine healthy tree
in a few years; and, if to this be added
occasional supplies of manure and a few waterings
during the dry season, an abundant yield of
fruit will most assuredly reward the toil and
outlay of the cocoa-nut cultivator.

Leaving this spot, I strolled through the next
field, to see what a number of little boys were
so busy about. There were a dozen black
urchins, running about from tree to tree;
sometimes they stopped, clambered up, and
appeared to have very particular business to
transact at the stems of the leaves; but
oftener they passed on contented with a mere
glance upwards at the fruit. They had a
sharp-pointed instrument in the hand: whilst
at the wrist of each was hung a cocoa-nut
shell. I paused to see what one of these
children was searching for, half hid as the
little fellow was amongst the gigantic leaves.
Intently scrutinising his motions, I observed
that he forced the little sharp instrument
into the very body of the tree: down it went
to the inmost core of the giant stem: all his
strength was employed; he strained and
struggled amongst the huge leaves, as though
he were engaged in deadly strife with some
terrible boa or chutah. At last he secured
his antagonist, and descended with something
alive, small and black, and impaled on the
barbed point of his little weapon. A few
questions elicited the whole secret. The
cocoa-nut tree, it seems, has many enemies
besides squirrels: the elephant, the wild hog,
the rat, the white ant, the porcupine, the
monkey, and a large white worm, either
attack it when young, or rob it of its fruit
when mature. But the most numerous and
persevering enemy which it has to encounter
from the age of three years until long after
it produces fruit, is the cooroominya, or cocoa-
nut beetle; a black hard-coated creature, with
beautiful wings, and a most powerful little
tusk, which it employs with fatal activity
to open a way into the trunks of the palms.
Its labours commence in the evening, and by
early morning it will be buried half-a-dozen
inches deep, in the very centre of the tree;
where, if not detected and removed, it feeds
on the soft pithy fibres, deposits its eggs, and
does not depart in less than two or three days.
These holes are always made in the softest
and sweetest part of the tree, near the crown;
and, in young plants, they prove seriously
hurtful; checking the growth, and impairing
the health of the future tree. In a morning's
walk an active lad will frequently secure as
many as a score of these cooroominyas; which
after being killed, are strung up on lilliputian
gibbets about the estate, as a warning to their
live friends.

Farther on I perceived, gathered in anxious
consultation, three of the lads around a
tree that was loaded with fruit; they looked
up at the leaves; then at the root; then at
the trunk. At last, one little fellow started
off, swift-footed as a hare, and was soon out of
sight. The others began scraping the earth
from the root as fast as possible; and all the
information they would impart was "leydie
gaha," or sick tree; so that there was nothing
for it but to imagine that the little messenger
had been despatched for the doctor. He soon
came back, not with the medicine-man, but
a mamootie, or Dutch hoe, and a cattie, or
sharp bill-hook. And then the busy work
went on again. In little more time than I take
to tell the story, the soil was removed from